Chapter 11: Steam and Press…AgainDays go by and I don’t touch him. I mean—I do—I touch his hair, his face, brush his thighs with my knuckles when I get him dressed in the morning. But there have been no massages. There have been no early morning wake-up sessions. The reason is that I want him to take control. I want him to tell me what he wants. I told him he could have anything, but he still seems hesitant, and I don’t want him to be.
He’s a billionaire. He’s bloody gorgeous. He’s nice, and successful, and I want him to own it. I want him to own me, I think, and he does in some ways. He signs my paychecks and I organize his schedule and meals, but other than that he doesn’t make any requests of me and I wish he would.
My favorite time of day is securing his shirt stays. The more often I
