Page 32 of Inferno
“Anders.” My name is a whisper on his lips, and I like it more than I should.
“I’m waiting for an answer, Boy.”
“Yes.” His voice grows louder, and more confident. “Yes. I blocked your number.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to speak to you.” Some of the strength in his conviction starts to fade, and I can’t help but smile. He’s angry, and he may think he doesn’t want to speak to me, but he doesn’t truly believe it.
“I hurt you.” It’s not a question. I know that I did.
“No.”
“I hurt you, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention. But finding out that?—”
“I’m at work,” Henry blurts, interrupting me.
“Is there someone else in the room with you?” I growl, sudden fiery jealousy burning bright inside of me at the idea that there’s someone with him when I’m not.
“No,” he hisses.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I have to get back to work. This is the business line for customers.” His voice is soft now but determined, and my dick twitches in my pants.
“Then unblock me, and we can talk on your cell instead.”
“No.” The waver in his tone tells me everything I need to know. He wants to talk to me. He wants to do as I ask, but he doesn’t think he should.
“Kitten,” I purr. “Unblock me.”
“No.” This time the word is so quiet I can barely hear it.
“I’m sorry. I’m a fucking idiot, Henry. But you need to let me fix things.”
“No.” The sound of the dial tone immediately follows, and I pull the cell from my ear and stare down at the dark screen in shock. He hung up on me.
A bark of laughter bursts from my mouth as I continue to stare at my cell in surprise.He hung up on me. I’m oddly impressed by his fortitude, but I’ll make him pay for it the next time I get my hands on him.
I spend the next few hours coming up with a plan on how to show my Kitten that I might not have handled things in the best way, but that I’ll do better from now on. By the time I climb in my car a little before five p.m., I have a clear idea of how to show my Boy that even if I fucked up by not speaking to him for days, he’s still mine.
I’ve never considered myself a sadist, but I don’t hate the feelings of gleeful anticipation that are swirling inside of me as I slow my car to a stop just around the corner from the garage. I know the route he takes to the bus station, so unless Parker gives him a ride home, he’ll be walking past me at some point in the next ten minutes.
The wait seems to last a lifetime, but the moment I spot him in my rearview mirror, I exhale a huff of relief. Jumping out of the car, I keep my head down, trying to appear inconspicuous while Henry walks toward me, completely oblivious to my presence.
“Hello, Kitten,” I say as I step out in front of him.
His eyes light up, then immediately dim. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“No, thank you,” he says, his tone achingly polite as he tries to step around me.
“Boy, get in the car.”
“I’m happy riding the bus.”
“Well, that makes one of us. No boy of mine is going to ride the bus. It’s not safe,” I growl.
