As the cork pops, my Master juggles a flute into position to catch the froth spuming from the bottleneck. He passes the glass to me and pours a second for himself.
“Are we celebrating?”
A smile plays over his lips. “Yes, my Love. I believe we have much to celebrate.”
“So we do.” I sip at my champagne then, taking a proper look at him, I swipe over his grey-streaked sleeve. “You’re dusty. What have you been doing to get dusty?”
He glances down, looking startled, but as he brushes himself down, gives me a sidelong smile. “I lit the fire downstairs, ensuring we’re good and warm for this evening. And I took down plenty of logs.”
downstairsThe glass pausing partway to my mouth, “Downstairs? In your… um… playroom?”
playroom?”Lips twitching, he cants his head. “I’m guessing you would prefe
