Of Being Yours[another way 2] by Anna Martin Read Free Book Online

the past few years. One of Will’s friends, Chris, had moved to Boston with a job, and Brandon and his wife were expecting their second child. Laura, despite her two daughters keeping her busy, remained close to us both. We needed her as much as ever.
    I took long strides through the museum lobby toward the elevators that would take me up to my office. I had plenty to be doing, as always, and there was the inevitable demand for my time on a Monday morning.
    As I sat down at my desk and powered up my computer, I winced, then rolled from one ass cheek to the other to try to ease the sting. We usually didn’t play on a Sunday night for this very reason. I had to unload the contents of my bag anyway, and I sent a quick text off to Will telling him I wanted to discuss our session over dinner that evening.
    My phone buzzed with his reply—“everything ok?”—as I was on the phone to one of my colleagues, and I sent him another message to reassure him before getting lost in my work for the rest of the morning.
    I should have anticipated that he’d worked himself up into a real panic by the time I got home at around six that evening. I still kicked off my shoes at the door (some rules never changed) and hummed to myself as I wandered through the house and found the last can of Coke in the fridge. He’d forgive me for it.
    “Jesse?” he called as I started for the stairs to get changed.
    I hopped down the stairs again and followed the sound of his voice through to the family room. He’d already changed from his day at work and was sitting with a mug of tea on his lap, a news channel on the TV with the volume turned down low.
    “Hey,” I said in greeting, leaning over the back of the couch to give him a quick kiss. “Good day?”
    “Yeah,” he said and grabbed my wrist. “Listen, Jesse, are you okay?”
    “Hmm? Yeah, of course.”
    “Then what was that text about this morning? I was worried about you.”
    “Oh.” I walked around the couch and sat down next to him.
    “Is that the last Coke?”
    “Yeah,” I said, then sipped it. Smirked at him. “Sorry. I have a sore ass. And thighs.”
    “Right. Is that all?”
    I leaned over and kissed him again. “Did I worry you?”
    He frowned and looked away from me. “No.”
    “All right.” I didn’t believe him. “Could I ask something of you, though?”
    He nodded for me to continue.
    “Can we please not have sessions on a school night? I don’t really like walking through the lobby bowlegged on a Monday morning. It kind of gives the wrong impression.”
    “Or the right one,” he said, the familiar twinkle of mischief now coloring his tone.
    I rolled my eyes at him. “Whatever. If you can fuck me senseless on a Friday night, though, that would work much better for me.”
    “We rarely have sessions on a Sunday night anyway.”
    “I know,” I said, a little exasperated now. “So it’s not a big deal. I promise.”
    He nodded and sipped at his tea, slurping it. I winced but didn’t comment. It was part of my “no nagging” New Year’s resolution.
    “Okay, so, while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about the session.”
    I nodded and settled back into the corner of the sofa. A few years back, I had issues about opening up after a session and being able to verbalize what I had liked and disliked. Unfortunately for me, discussing sex was right up there on Will’s list of favorite things to do, right after actually having sex. I’d been forced to learn quickly to overcome my embarrassment and be honest with both myself and him.
    “It came out of the drag queen night, didn’t it?”
    Will smirked and his brown eyes narrowed with mischief. “Maybe.”
    I threw my hands up in the air and laughed. “So much for honesty!”
    “Yes,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me closer. “I’ve always liked to challenge your boundaries, you know that. And seeing how uncomfortable it made you, dressing up in drag, just gave me the idea to force you into