9. Chapter 9

Since it looks like Kipp's head is about to explode, I suggest we take a breather. He nods wordlessly before bringing his plate to the dishwasher and loading it inside. I follow, giving his neck a squeeze before he can run off. He shoots me a smile, his shoulders lowering, and then he leaves the room.

I settle on the couch, letting him have the privacy of the bedroom. He only stays in there for five minutes.

"I want to kiss," he declares, stormingback into the room.

"Right now?" I ask, my pulse jumping.

"In general," he says, waving his hand through the air. "We're supposed to negotiate terms, right? That's a thing?"

My lips twitch. Has he been Googling? "We can do that."

"So, kissing," he repeats, sitting next to me on the couch. He stays that way for all of three seconds before he flops sideways, his head landing in my lap. "Is this okay?"

"More than," I assure him, sifting my fingers through his hair.

"Okay, so I like kissing," he goes on. "And I'm vers, but I do prefer to bottom."

His eyes meet mine, checking in, and I give him a nod.

"And, um…" He falters. "I don't know. You go."

I give his hair a gentle tug until he relaxes against me. "I want to hold you after sex, Kipp."

Blue eyes flash to mine in surprise.

"Aftercare is just as important to me," I explain. "I need to be close, to know you're safe and not having an emotional drop."

"That can happen?" he asks.

I nod. "Anyone can feel down after a physical connection, but submissives in particular are putting themselves in a very vulnerable position. Sub drop can happen after you experience an endorphin high, and if you feel yourself crashing, emotionally or physically, I want to know. I don't want you to hide that from me."

"Okay," he says, swallowing.

"Thank you," I reply, toying with his hair again. "Beyond that, my tastes are quite simple."

"Bossing me around."

My lips twitch again. "I only want to make you feel good, Kipp. That's what I enjoy."

"So, like…no contracts or punishments?"

"No."

"And no whips and chains and stuff?"

"None of that," I assure him.

"That's not so scary," he says, which makes me laugh.

"No, it shouldn't be."

"And, uh…"

I tug his head back, waiting until he meets my eye. "What is it?"

He swallows roughly. "Do I need to call you Daddy?" he asks, voice shaking slightly.

Ah.

"Only if you want to. If it makes you uncomfortable, then no, simple as that. If you want to, well…" I shrug. "I do like it."

"Because…you want to take care of me," he says, not quite a question. More like he's puzzling it out for himself.

I give him a warm smile, running my hand down his chest and anchoring there. "Yes."

He blows out a breath. "Sounds kinda nice."

It's almost unbearable, the fondness I feel at those words. It's a tight, hot thing in my chest, the steam of it rising up and making my eyes sting. I've shied away from this for so long. Years. But I can't turn away from Kipp. Can't deny him anything. This man…he's brash and excitable, a bit reckless at times, and most definitely scattered. But he's also sweet and sincere, and I don't think he's ever had someone there to take care of him. Someone to tell him it's okay and that he doesn't have to keep it together all the time. That he can be messy and bright and beautiful and imperfect. That he can fall down, and someone will be there to pick him back up.

I want to be that person, however inadvisable. I want to be the one he trusts, even if our time is limited. Even if, when all is said and done, Kipp and I get divorced and go our separate ways. It's going to hurt no matter how much further I fall.

I might as well enjoy the plummet.

"What are you doing today?" I ask, sensing our conversation is over for now.

"Oh, um… Not sure, actually," he says, stretching his legs. "Usually on the weekends, I just catch up with friends and do laundry and stuff."

"Well, if you want, you could join me. Some of the guys from the studio are helping Emil move his things to his new place."

Kipp tilts his head, catching my eye. "Manual labor? Sign me up!" he says, hopping up and bouncing on his toes. He claps his hands together once. "Well? We doing this or what?"

Chuckling, I follow Kipp off the couch. He smiles widely, and for a brief moment, my gaze drops to his lips, gut swooping as his one and only demand rings in my ears. "I like kissing."

No, I'm not sure I will survive this. But fucking hell, I've already made my choice.

"Let me text Emil," I tell Kipp. "And then we'll get going."

"Whoa," Kipp breathes, stepping through the open front door into Emil's apartment. "That's a lot of books."

He's not wrong. On the floor are boxes and boxes of books, mostly paperbacks and hardcovers in neat stacks. But there are textbooks, too. Dozens of them.

"Emil is a psych major," I explain.

Kipp knows Emil—who goes by Felix on set—just as he knows all of my coworkers. But considering Emil tends to keep to himself and Kipp generally joins us to party, I'm guessing the topic might not have come up.

"So the smarty-pants glasses aren't only for show," Kipp jokes.

"No, I'm incredibly farsighted and have astigmatism," Emil says, appearing from down the hall. "Can't see a thing without them." He gives us a shy smile as he comes to a stop a few feet away. "Thanks for coming. I appreciate the help."

"Of course," I tell him. "Are the other guys on the way?"

Emil nods, glasses slipping down his nose. "Yeah, they should be here any—"

"Bro-friend!" Kipp yells in excitement, dragging Niko in for a hug as the curly-haired man clears the door. Niko chuckles, slapping Kipp's back. Kipp holds out his fist to Dixon next. Dixon, rather reluctantly, taps their knuckles together.

"Oh, me, too!" Alex cries, launching himself onto Dixon's back.

"For fuck's sake, where did you come from?" Dixon grumbles, even as he grabs on to Alex's legs, making sure the smaller man doesn't fall.

Alex holds his fist Kipp's way. "Bring it in, Kipper."

With a massive grin, Kipp pounds Alex's fist. They make dual explosion sounds afterwards.

And that about sums up the next ten minutes. Alex's boyfriends come in the door behind him, more of our coworkers arrive, and pretty soon, we're all hauling boxes and furniture down the stairs. At least there's only one flight.

"This is fun," Kipp says, wiping his forehead as we stand beside the moving truck. I shake my head as he tugs up his t-shirt, clearing nonexistent sweat from his brow. He gives me a swift grin, well aware of what he's doing.

"We've been at it for five minutes," I point out. "You might be singing a different tune later tonight when you're too sore to climb into bed."

"You could draw me a bath," he suggests, batting his eyelashes. "Maybe rub my sore muscles a bit?"

I bite my tongue. He's definitely been Googling. "You're going to test me, aren't you?"

Not that I thought for one second Kipp would stop being his flirty, confident self just because he agreed I could boss him around in bed.

Kipp feigns shock. "Me? No. I'll be good." He walks a step past me before whispering, "Daddy."

The slap to his ass should not have been a surprise, but Kipp yelps and runs off, laughing as he disappears inside the building.

Fuck, this man is going to test me. I have no doubt I'll enjoy every minute of it.

When I get back up to Emil's apartment, Dixon and Niko are maneuvering a couch through the room. I step out of the way, noticing Kipp off near what looks to be a small terrarium.

"Who's this?" Kipp asks Emil.

"Oh," Emil huffs, stepping closer. "That's my hermit crab."

"Emil," Alex says sternly from across the room. He has his hands on his hips. "We talked about this."

"Alex," Emil groans.

Alex raises an eyebrow.

Emil sighs, turning back to Kipp. "That's Sir Arthurpod, His Royal Cuteness, Burrower of Sand and Creator of Dreams."

Alex looks mightily pleased, whereas Emil seems ready to disappear into the floorboards.

Kipp beams, bending down and waving at the hermit crab. "Hi, Sir Arthur." Noticing me nearby, he points at the tank. "Teddy! A hermit crab. Can we get one? Please? They can have playdates."

"Crab daddies!" Alex shouts.

"No crabs," I tell Kipp.

My five foot eleven and three-quarters, twenty-nine-year-old, I-shave-my-face-every-day husband pouts. Pouts.

"Put that away," I say sternly, aiming a finger at his face.

He does, but not before grabbing another box off the floor and blowing me a kiss.

"Oooh," Alex sings once Kipp is out of sight, his hazel eyes turning my way. "Teddy and Kipper, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes dancing, and then comes marriage. Then comes a baby in a—hey." Alex bats my hand off his mouth. "Rude."

"You're trouble," I point out, wiping my palm before grabbing an upholstered armchair.

"And proud of it," he retorts.

Yeah, yeah.

I head down the stairs with the armchair in tow. Kipp stops when I walk past him at the bottom landing. "Uh," he says, turning to watch me. "Can I be next?"

I set the furniture in the truck, pushing it against the side before facing Kipp. He's waiting with a grin.

"Sure," I reply, striding his way.

His eyes go wide. "Wait, what?"

Kipp grunts when I haul him over my shoulder. I secure my arm above his ass and head for the stairs.

"Holy shit," he breathes.

I get a strong sense of satisfaction as Kipp goes silent for the rest of the short climb up to the second floor. When I set him down, his face is flushed and his hair is disheveled, giving him a decidedly sexy bedhead look that would only look better earned naturally.

"Fuck, Teddy," he whispers, recovering quickly and fanning his face. "Is tossing me around on the table? Because I've never been with a guy who could pick me up before, and that was hot as hell."

"Yeah, sweetheart," I say in a low voice, tugging his shirt back into place, fingers lingering. "I think that could be arranged."

His blush darkens.

My ringing phone interrupts the moment, and I pull it from my pocket, the smug smile I'd been harboring slipping away. I'm tempted to dismiss the call, but I have a feeling I know why my brother is trying to get in touch, and it'd be better to head him off now before he gets any big ideas.

"Excuse me," I mumble to Kipp, walking down the hall. His forehead pinches in clear worry, but he heads back inside as I answer my phone. "I'm not selling my shares, no matter what Antoni implied."

Cameron is quiet for a beat. "Is it true? You got married?"

I sigh, stepping out of the way as Alex and his boyfriends pass with boxes in their hands. "None of your business."

"It is my business if it becomes our business. Did you get a prenup?"

Jesus Christ."Let me repeat myself, Cam. My life is none of your business. It stopped being your business the moment you fucked me over. With my boyfriend."

"Theo," he chides. "Are you really hung up on that? It was five years ago."

I clench my jaw tight. I haven't been Theo for a long time. Cameron and Antoni are the only ones who still call me that, and the nickname chafes like an ill-fitted boot.

"If you're asking if I'm ready to forgive you, the answer is no," I say.

"Why won't you sell the shares? You don't even work here anymore."

"And whose fault is that?" I grit out.

He doesn't deign to answer me. "You're not acting on behalf of the firm. You don't care about running the business. You're just holding onto those shares to spite Antoni and me."

"You never understood," I say, shaking my head.

"Understood what?" he asks, sounding put out.

"What it meant to me. Starting that business with you, Cam. Building something from the ground up. You didn't care that it was my dream. You didn't care that it was never about profits to me. You were greedy, and you stomped all over me on your pursuit to the top. You made my staying impossible, and you never looked back. And now, what? You want me to sell?" I let out a frustrated sound. "I don't care about the money. I never did. And believe it or not, I don't sit around plotting ways to get my revenge. Those shares are mine. I earned them with my own goddamn sweat and tears. They mean something to me. And you can't ever take that away. I'm not selling."

I hang up before my brother can respond, and then I block his number like I should have done years ago. Family doesn't betray you. Family doesn't stab you in the back. I thought, once, that Cameron loved me. And maybe he did. Maybe he even does. But not all love is healthy, and I've come too far to let myself be dragged back into that twisted mess.

With a sigh, I stick my phone in my pocket and head down the hall to Emil's. My costars are hard at work, nearly having cleared the entire space. Kipp catches my eye from the kitchen, a small box of utensils in his hands.

"Hey," he says, walking over. "Everything all right?"

As I look at Kipp's gentle smile and the way his eyes are creased in concern, I think that yeah, maybe everything will be.

"Yep," I tell him. "Feeling sore yet?"

"Why?" he asks a little cautiously.

"Just wondering what temperature you prefer for your baths."

He looks surprised for all of a second before he laughs, loudly and without restraint. "Do I get salts, too?"

"Anything you want, Kipp."

Anything you want.