janedavitt

In odd moments I'm expanding a thousand-word original short I did some time back into a novel(Sir)

and here's a bit of it:

"What did you do to my boy?"

The voice is male, calm, and there's an undercurrent of amusement. I grimace. Fuck. I'd asked him a few questions before he stripped, but not if he belonged to someone else.

"Not as much as I wanted to," I say, honesty trumping tact.

"Is that so." There's a pause. "Are your ears burning? Because he's been ranting about you for hours."

"I'm flattered." I clear my throat. "Do I owe you an apology?"

"For ruining my night? Maybe, though from what he's said, Mark's the one who screwed up."

Mark. Huh. I file it away.

"That isn't what I'd be apologizing for." God, that word stuck in my throat. Doms don't apologize much because we make damn sure we don't do anything wrong. Too much riding on being infallible -- or faking it convincingly. I didn't bother asking how this guy had found my number. I'd told Mark to tell someone where he was before he got in his car to follow me home. He'd sent a text, showing it to me first, a courtesy I appreciated. It'd given my address, nothing else, but that was all anyone needed to do a reverse look-up.

"He'd kill me if he knew I was doing this, but is it out of the question to give him another shot?"

Now the guy sounds hesitant, even a little embarrassed, but that's not what has me frowning. What the hell?

I say it aloud and add, "You're his Dom. Why would you want to send him back to me? And if you did, I'm assuming sharing's something you've both agreed to, so why let him rant when you could've just gagged him and spanked the bad temper out of him?"

"What?" His voice is deep, but it goes high then. "Spanked -- I'm not his Dom. Why would you -- oh, shit."

I wait, patiently enough considering I'm out of my depth and I really hate that. I hear him take a deep breath. "I'm Dave Stanton. I'm Mark's father."

Well, at least he didn't say he was Mark's daddy, or we'd have stayed at cross-purposes even longer.