Page 48 of Checking Out the Librarian

“You were very good, Connor. Very good.” Jonathan made some little sounds, spoke little words that were only a few notches above crooning. Maybe he said hush and sweet and shh it’s okay, but it was far away and fuzzy.

He slumped into Jonathan’s body. It would be alright.

“You are absolutely perfect.” Jonathan’s voice was warmer and softer than Connor could remember hearing. And he kept his fingers working in Connor’s hair. In a moment, Connor would be able to get to his feet, because he was all the things Jonathan kept murmuring.

He was good. He was perfect. And Jonathan was perfect for him.

Jonathan steadied him as he rose from the floor and filled a glass with water while Connor put his hand on the counter and pretended he didn’t need the support. The water helped, and then Jonathan gave him a peeled banana and made him eat until his knees felt like they could take him up the stairs.

“I’m going to…” He circled his hand vaguely in the direction of the ceiling above. “Be right back.”

“I’ll be here.”

Connor believed him.

12

THAT’S A LOT

Jonathan watched Connor carefully after he returned to the kitchen, but he didn’t wobble in front of the stove as he cooked a fresh batch of French toast, and he didn’t fumble pouring coffee or juice, so the trip upstairs to change must have helped him recover.

Connor had surprised him with the depth of his responsiveness, and Jonathan had wondered if he needed to do something more, something beyond ordinary kindness and concern, but thankfully Connor had bounced back quickly to grin at the stove and wiggle his eyebrows when he spoke.

Together, they set the small table with a decent set of plain white dishes, of which Jonathan approved, and a blue and gold patterned porcelain pitcher of maple syrup, tiny and pretty enough that Jonathan could wrap his palm around it, of which he triple-approved. He stared at the plate of perfectly browned slices of bread Connor set in the center.

Connor held out the serving fork to him first. The golden egg batter had tiny dark flecks of real vanilla bean seeds, a clear sign that he’d woken up in someone else’s life. Best case scenario, no one would tell him to leave.

After his first bite, Connor looked at him with raised eyebrows and a questioning head tilt. “So?”

“Very toothsome.”

A smile twitched at a corner of Connor’s mouth.

“I’d go as far as delectable.”

Connor sighed. “Only that far?”

He cut another square and swirled it in the edge of the syrup puddle. He couldn’t talk while he ate, not until at least half this French toast resided on the inside of his body, but the presence of the man across the table was as compelling as the breakfast. “Perhaps I would agree to scrumptious, but only if you let me eat in peace.”

A blow job and French toast. This morning was the best Jonathan could remember in quite possibly forever, but of course his brain intruded into his pleasure sooner than he would have liked.

With a twinge, he realized that Connor kept getting into situations where Jonathan ended up very much in charge, and he should probably research whatever sub care entailed. He was good at research. And apparently, unbeknownst to him until this man, he was also good at being some version of a bossy dom.

He shouldn’t do it wrong, though, and he definitely wasn’t buying more leather until he earned about five more raises.

Connor stared at him and Jonathan realized he’d been asked a question.

“I missed that.” He raised an eyebrow to make Connor repeat himself.

“It was nothing big.” Connor fumbled with the cutlery at the edge of his plate. “What were you⁠—”

He cut himself off, but Jonathan assumed he’d intended to ask what Jonathan had been thinking about, naturally. “You, asshole. I was thinking about you.”

Predictably, Connor flushed his lovely rose color and tucked his chin towards his chest. “Me?”

He sipped his coffee, which had grown tepid, so he held it out wordlessly to Connor.

The other man took the mug, stood, and immediately refilled it from the pot.