Page 63 of Gambler's Conceit
“So you’re making sureIcan’t sleep either.” Caleb sets the clock back down and pulls the blanket back up. “Go watch TV and fall asleep on the couch. With the volume on low, please.”
“Make me,” I snap at him. “You want to get into my head, fine. But that doesn’t mean you get to sleep all peaceful while I suffer.” I didn’t mean to say that last bit, but it’s out before I can stop it.
Oh fucking well. I’m sure Vortex is going to tell him all about our date anyway.
Caleb makes a disgruntled sound and sits back up. He turns on the bedside lamp, then reaches for the pair of glasses next to the bed.
I watch as he puts the glasses on.
“Why are you wearing those?” I ask.
Caleb rolls his eyes. “Because I’m near-sighted? And if you want me to give you attention, I want to be able to see you.”
I scoff at him. “You don’t need to be able to see me to fuck me senseless,” I tell him.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” Caleb says. He leans against the headboard and groans. “Fuck. Didn’t Vortex tire you out? That was the point of you having extra boyfriends.”
I glare at him harder at the mention of Vortex. “No,” I snap. “He was too busy asking me fuckingquestionsto fuck me. I guess you had something to do with that?”
“What questions?” Caleb asks, sounding genuinely confused. “I’ve been dealing with bureaucracy and PR all day.”
I want to shout at him, to shake him, toremindhim that there’s no way Vortex would’ve mentioned New Bristol by accident, but I don’t want Caleb to be the one asking questions right now. “It doesn’t matter,” I say. I slide my hand down onto his cock, finding it soft, and scowl harder. “Just fuck me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Fuck me. Hurt me. Make me bleed.
Caleb wraps his hands around my wrists and squeezes. “No.”
“Isn’t that what I’m here for?” I demand. “To be your little fucktoy? So do it. Fuck me. I’m right the fuck here,Master.”
I wish my voice wasn’t shaking. I wish I wasn’t starting to sound desperate.
But if he rejects me, too… I don’t know what I’m going to do.
Caleb releases one wrist but keeps his hand tight around the other one. “If I’m your master, then you’re here to do what I want.” He gets out of bed and tugs me along. “Come on.”
He’s not going to fuck this ugly mood out of me.
He’s not going to beat my ass for acting out.
He’s probably going to put me on the couch, turn on the TV, and abandon me.
Then what?
Caleb drags me to the kitchen. Miss K jumps down from the nearby cat tree and starts rubbing against Caleb’s legs, like she thinks he’s going to feed her at this hour.
He smiles down at her. “Yeah, it should be bedtime.” He glances at me. “I’m giving you two choices, and if you refuse to answer, I’m going to pick and you don’t get to complain. Got it?”
I give an exaggerated roll of my eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
Caleb lets go of my wrist and walks over to the electric kettle. “Chamomile or lemon tea?”
I gape at him. “You… What?” I can’t be hearing him right. “You want me to choose what kind of tea you’re going to force down my throat?”
I don’twantthis. I don’t want tea. I don’t want to calm down.
What the fuck do I have to do to get him to snap?
“Chamomile, then.” Caleb yawns and turns the kettle on.