Page 41 of Praised
ROSE
Uncharacteristically,at no point over the weekend did I get the impression that I’d overstayed my welcome at Flynn’s house. The longer I was there, the more I became familiar with him as a person, the more his house made sense. Flynn was steadfast and reliable; he was practical. Every time his phone rang, he answered it, whether it was work or a friend, and he engaged each person in a wholly unpredictable way, at least to my understanding. He was professional and serious with work and jovial and teasing with his friends. He made innuendos and cracked jokes, and it didn’t take long for me to realize Flynn was more multifaceted than I’d given him credit for.
I stayed at his house until Saturday afternoon, because I had to go home at that point. I needed clean clothes and I had to work that evening. But from Friday morning to the moment I left, Flynn had done everything in his power to show me the truth behind the words he’d spoken over breakfast. He tended me, made sure I was fed and had enough water. He took me into the shower and washed me with a very commendable attention to detail, then he took me to bed and defiled me with just as much focus and dedication.
My phone battery had died hours before I’d even entertained the idea of leaving, and when I got home and got it plugged in I had a flurry of messages from a very worried Drake. I knew he was mad that I’d gone incognito, so instead of answering him with a text, I called.
He answered on the first ring.
“You piece of shit,” he answered, almost a yell.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
I threw myself back onto my bed, charging cord pulling taut as I stretched across the short allotment of space it allowed.
“Where have you been?”
“I worked Friday night and then I went home with that guy from the club.”
“What guy?”
“From last week,” I reminded him. “The rich one.”
“Did you rob him?” Drake laughed.
“Of semen, sure.”
“Oh, God!” he shouted in my ear. “Don’tcallit that.”
“His ejaculate.”
“Not much better.”
“Sucked him dry,” I said with a laugh and an achingly pleasurable flash of memories. “Wrung his balls out.”
“This must be why you’re so good at sucking dick,” he accused. “Always getting a mouthful of cock so you’ll stop talking.”
“I’m good at sucking dick because I practiced,” I countered, which earned me a very tired kind of sigh from my very best friend. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or text, but my phone died when I was at his house and I just got home. If it’s any consolation, he intercepted me at work so I’m sure if you reported me missing, the cops would have been able to track him down relatively quickly.”
“He what?” Drake asked, and I covered my eyes with my forearm, realizing the error of the casual commentary.
“He met me after work,” I tried to course-correct the conversation. “His name is Flynn, by the way.”
“Are we on a first name basis so soon after Cody?” he asked.
“Flynn could be the real deal.”
If he wanted to be. And after the weekend we spent together, I was relatively confident he did. Even though there was a lot about the things he liked that didn’t mesh with the things I wanted, I didn’t necessarily think we were incompatible. The one part that had stuck with me, besides the feeling of his tongue spearing my ass open, was the comment he’d made about the less dominant partner being the one with control.
I wanted to say that it felt like a line he spouted to get his way, but after listening to the way he engaged the other people in his life, I didn’t think Flynn had a dishonest bone in his body. I also didn’t see any harm in putting it to the test if given the opportunity.
“I’ve heard that before,” Drake mumbled.
“Are you worried about me?”
“Of course. You’re my best friend.”
I rolled onto my side and smiled.
