When I woke up in an empty bed, I was prepared for it. The space beside me had long since grown cold.

The last time I'd been here, my emotions were all over the place, and while I didn't know the exact reason why Gideon refused to sleep with me, I couldn't fault him for it. Everyone was different; some didn't like to share a bed, and that was okay. Of course, I wished he would, but I'd respect his wishes. I just hoped he'd gotten sleep, no matter where he had spent the night.

Rising from the bed, I stretched and felt aches in places I didn't know could ache until I met these men. Gideon had worked me over pretty good last night.

I blushed, remembering how he made me hump his leg–worse, he didn't make me, only told me that if I wanted the orgasm, I had to use him, and I'd been too desperate not to. No, not just desperate. I wanted to do it; the act so humiliating it had made my skin burn with need.

My clit throbbed with the memory of me grinding on his leg, seeking the pleasure promised to me while he watched. It was something I would not forget any time soon.

Then, my mind went to what had happened afterward, when he'd forced me to stay still and keep quiet for fifteen whole minutes. It had been hell. Each time worse than the former, and yet, I'd loved it too. By the last try, I could feel tears pressing behind my eyelids as I fought against my own body's reaction. God, I'd wanted to scream, to move–something, anything, but I had wanted his cock even more. I needed the delicious stretch that only his dick could provide. I hadn't thought I would be able to hold that tight of a leash on my body, but Gideon had proved me wrong.

The thing was, I'd actually learned a lot about myself last night. I'd learned how fantastic it felt to let go of my inhibitions. I'd learned how much I hated displeasing my dominants. Just the thought of Gideon's disapproving words made my body tense as if I'd been hit–only emotionally instead of physically. Lastly, I learned I had more control of my body than I'd given myself credit for.

Walking into the closet, I found a pair of denim shorts and underwear. I didn't want to change out of his shirt, so I stuck with it. Only when I walked back out of the closet after dressing did I realize I had finally accepted the fact that they'd bought clothes for me and that I would wear them. I didn't know if that was progress, they would probably think so. I guess I'd just learned that while I could be stubborn, they were way worse when it came to taking care of me. A huge part of me liked that–a lot, though it was hard to admit it to myself. I'd always been independent, and I felt like I was losing myself to them.

I followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen, hoping to find a well-rested man as opposed to the last time I'd been here. Though, I wouldn't complain if I saw him shirtless like I'd done then. Alas, that wasn't meant to be.

Gideon stood by the counter chopping fruit with a black t-shirt on, similar to the one I wore. Unlike mine, his shirt was stretched tight against his muscled upper body, making me drool. My eyes strayed further down, and my breath caught when I saw the grey sweatpants he had on. I'd only ever seen him in a suit, so it was quite a shock to the system–especially my lady parts, because goddamn, those sweatpants did nothing to hide the body underneath. The grey cotton clung to his ass, letting me just how well-shaped he was.

"Want to help me make breakfast?" Gideon's voice startled me out of my staring, and my eyes snapped up, meeting his knowing gaze. Yeah, he definitely knew I'd been checking him out. I noted the dark circles under his eyes, but he looked better than the last time I'd slept over.

"Um, sure. What are we making?" I was surprised by his offer. He seemed like a guy who treasured his space in the kitchen.

"Baguette with eggs and bacon, with fruit salad on the side," he answered and started cutting up a watermelon. "The baguettes should be done rising now. Take out the baking pan from the oven and replace it with the pan that's on the counter."

I looked to where he nodded at the counter and saw a baking pan with a cloth over it. I removed the cover to see two perfectly shaped baguettes.

Holy hell, I thought he'd meant store-bought baguette, but this was definitely something he'd baked himself. Doing as he'd instructed, I took out the pan from the oven, which had some water in it, and that puzzled me enough to ask what purpose it had.

"It's to create steam, so the baguettes get crusty," Gideon explained. How much time did he really spend in the kitchen? Enough to impress me, at least.

With the baguette-shaped dough in the oven, he instructed me on how to fry the bacon step by step. I had quite honestly thought I was okay at making bacon, but he taught me how to make them perfect and not too scorched like I usually got them. I let him crack the eggs while I watched because I always fucked up the plums.

My mouth watered at the smell of food saturating the air. While he filled our platters, I set the table with mugs, glasses, coffee, and fresh-pressed orange juice.

For a second time in under twenty-four hours, I'd found joy in spending time with Gideon in the kitchen. Here, he was a whole other person. He was more relaxed, and at ease, and for however long he cooked, he didn't scowl at the world, though he still stuck to his few words when he could get away with it.

By the time we sat down, I was starving. The baguette was filled with an omelet, bacon, and sliced tomato which looked absolutely divine and tasted even better.

"I'll definitely remember to put water in the oven beforehand if I ever make baguettes," I marveled because, seriously, that was a damn cool trick.

Aside from a few initiated conversations on my part–if you could even call me asking questions and him answering either yes or no as conversations–we didn't talk. It would take time to get him to open up, but I wouldn't give up.

Before long, I was back in Gideon's car, on my way to work. I'd never actually disliked my jobs until now when all I wanted to do was spend time with my dominants. And maybe that was why it was a good thing to be forced away from them, lest they'd get sick and tired of me.

"Thank you," I said as I unbuckled myself, he'd already walked around the car and opened up my door. Walking out, I smiled up at his–once again–scowling face. "So, I guess I'll be seeing you again tomorrow?"

"Yes." His eyes strayed to my lips, and I hoped for one of his rough, claiming kisses. Instead, he surprised me by slapping my ass–hard. "See you then, baby girl," he whispered before walking to the driver's seat and drove away, leaving me standing outside the café. Looking in through the café's window, I shook my head at the way Kevin was giving me thumbs up.

Tomorrow was Saturday which was when the group would gather, and I would be with Callan today after my shift.

It was a tight schedule, but I didn't mind. I knew I would go insane if I didn't have anyone to pull me out of my own head.