Page 19 of Balance

He smirked at me and leaned closer. “You spanked me so hard you rearranged my DNA. Don’t be sorry that you ordered for me.”

He straightened back away, and I hated the distance between us. But this was hardly the kind of place where I could do even a fraction of the things that Troye made me want to do to him.

“I don’t know that I’ve had anyone accuse me of rearranging their DNA before.” I must have looked worried because Troye sent me a reassuring smile.

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” A sudden wash of pink colored his cheeks.

“Is that why you left without a word? Because it was good?”

He looked stricken, and maybe I should have gone easier on him, but it had been eating away at me, a decay I couldn’t get rid of.

“I was… overwhelmed, I think. But I didn’t leave because it was bad.”

“Were you hurt?”

Understanding washed over him, and his eyes widened. “No. Not at all. Not even a little. I just panicked. You’ve met me. I’m super rational. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“You did,” I admitted, and then I forgave him for it as if it were a choice I actually made. I’d already forgiven him. I was the one who should be sorry for messing around with someone so new with such little negotiation first. “But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“How did you get into that kind of thing? Like, did you just wake up one day and think gee, I really want to spank someone?”

Troye’s offhand remark nearly made me choke on my drink, and once I got it to go down the right tube, I cleared my throat. “Not exactly.”

He shifted so he was sitting closer to me. “Because that’s kind of how it felt for me. After the other night, I went to sleep, and it was like I woke up a different person. Well, not a different person. But it was like I was the same person I always was, but there was this new thing inside of me. And I don’t know if you put it there or if it was always there and you just woke it up.”

“It’s not something someone else can give you. It’s not like a toy or a game. And it’s not as simple as you’re into it or you’re not. Because everyone is different, and some people are into a lot of different things, and other people only like specific things.”

“And how do you find out?”

Troye was trying to kill me with his earnest curiosity and the big, round, hopeful puppy dog eyes. He wasn’t completely innocent—he was too old for that. He had the eyes of someone who had been through some shit and some of his innocence had been scratched away. But then I came along, and it seemed he found this untouched part of himself.

“My college boyfriend and I did a lot of experimenting together. He kind of liked some of the things we did, and he never complained in the moment. He was always just as into it as I was, but he had a tough upbringing. He came from a very religious family, and I think he dealt with a lot of misplaced guilt. When he broke up with me, it was because I’d told him that there were things we did that I truly loved, that I connected with in ways that I never expected.”

“And he broke up with you for that?” Troye looked as horrified and confused as I’d felt at the time.

“He had a lot of religious trauma. It was like he couldn’t be gay and kinky. Like one or the other would be fine, but both was too much.”

“I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “I’m not. It sucked in the moment, but by the time he broke up with me, I kind of guessed that we weren’t going to make it. We’d dialed back the kinky explorations a lot because I could see he was uncomfortable with things. Never in the moment, but it would come upon him after. Sometimes weeks later. It was like his religious programming needed a few weeks to break through.”

“That’s hard. I mean, I wasn’t raised with any kind of belief system. Hell, I was barely raised at all, but I know that some things are harder to shake.”

“I’d really like to ask you what you meant when you said you were barely raised at all.”

Troye looked away and then back at me. And he opened his mouth like he might want to tell me, but then he closed it again as our food was delivered.

“This smells amazing,” Troye said, leaning closer to his plate to get a better whiff. His expression relaxed into something happier, somewhat put at ease by the arrival of food and the break in the conversation.

I took the hint that he didn’t want to discuss that particular remark he’d made.

“So you’ve never been with someone with my particular interests before?” I asked as I watched him dig into his food. He made a cute little hum of approval.

“What exactly are your interests? I mean, besides the super obvious one.” He shifted position and more color washed over his cheeks. “You got me good,” he said with a smile, like he was proud.

“And you took it well.”

Troye stilled at the compliment, again, and ducked his head.