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    Independence Fatigue
    Independence Fatigue
    Independence Fatigue
    Ebook99 pages1 hour

    Independence Fatigue

    By Emily Carrington

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    About this ebook

    Being a Dom isn’t working for Peter Campbell. He really craves the release of being a submissive, but he’s confused about the sub’s role. He is also struggling with a much larger issue.

    Dr. Abe knows there’s something bothering his lover, but he doesn’t know how to work through their difficulties when Peter won’t talk to him. Convinced it’s their bed play that has Peter out of sorts, Abe is determined to fix whatever’s wrong. What will happen when the doctor discovers there’s something bigger than their problems in the bedroom?
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChangeling Press
    Release dateJan 28, 2022
    Independence Fatigue

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      Book preview

      Independence Fatigue - Emily Carrington

      Chapter One

      They were looking at a safe, secure website for BDSM and Peter felt his stomach clench a little more as he read through the For Beginners menu. It covered things like Doms VS subs, Safe words, and The sub is Actually in Charge.

      In his experience, that last wasn’t true. Abe gave over all control when Peter played dominant.

      It was the idea of being submissive that turned Peter on. But they’d accepted their roles, right? And it said here while a dominant could and should train as a sub first, a true submissive couldn’t be a permanent dom.

      For Peter, that was certainly the case. Every time he had to pretend to be dominant, his heart pounded in his chest, and he feared he would hurt Abe accidentally.

      And besides all that, he loved the idea of being tied up and spanked. Not by just anyone, either, but by his beautiful, perfect lover.

      He’d wanted that once before, to be submissive in the bedroom. Maybe that was one reason his marriage to Megan had gone so badly four years ago. He’d wanted to be dominated in bed and she’d said, I’m no one’s mistress. A mistress is someone you pay to do things like that. He hadn’t brought it up again.

      But now, could he have a second chance?

      Abe touched Peter’s knee and Peter jumped, startled. He loved being touched but he’d been so wrapped up… He shook his head to clear it and met his beloved’s dark, nearly black, eyes. And as often happened when he’d been living in the past too much, he was freshly amazed and aroused by Abe’s delicately precise Japanese features. Abe, pronounced Ah-bay after the Japanese poet and playwright, Kobo Abe, was Japanese American. He had extensive family out west, a sister down south, and a niece at the school for the deaf where Peter taught. Abe was a veterinarian. He kept his hair short because, he said, he didn’t want to mess with it on a day when he’d have to go into surgery. He loved healing animals and that took precedence over what he called wavy locks as he tugged playfully on Peter’s shoulder-length brownish-blond hair.

      Abe took his hand off Peter’s knee so he could use American Sign Language to communicate. What are you thinking?

      Lying didn’t jive with the honest relationship they’d always had, but Peter didn’t want to admit his sub tendencies. So, he confessed another truth. I hate it when I start thinking about Megan, even if it’s only for a moment, he signed back.

      Abe frowned. It was adorable. What brought that on?

      Can we talk about it later?

      Abe reached out and shut off the computer. Yes, he signed. Let’s go upstairs.

      Peter wasn’t entirely sure he hid his feelings of tension as he nodded and stood.

      Abe rose also and gripped Peter’s bicep briefly. Then his hands flew. I was thinking… No BDSM tonight. Just lovemaking. I miss the sweetness.

      Peter kissed him.

      And even though the kiss was supposed to be quick, a simple show of thanks, it turned instantly hot as Abe pressed against him and ground his crotch against Peter’s thigh.

      Peter scooped his beloved up. He couldn’t actually make it all the way up the stairs with Abe in his arms. Slight the other man might be, and Peter had a bodybuilder’s physique, but Abe was weighty with muscle. Still, Peter’s grandiose gesture got Abe to laugh.

      Which Peter couldn’t hear. But he could see the way Abe’s teeth flashed and the sparkle in his dark eyes as those same almond-shaped orbs squinted in enjoyment.

      He carried Abe all the way to the bottom of the stairs and set him down on the first riser. Peter cupped Abe’s face with both hands. He resumed the kiss.

      When he drew back, Abe reached between them and touched Peter’s crotch. Then he grinned wickedly and squeezed just a little.

      Peter caught his lover’s hand and brought it to his lips. Then he signed, Let’s get upstairs before we decide to strip right here. He made a show of looking around before adding, And you know Tracks will watch us if we do that.

      * * *

      Abe grinned at the mention of the voyeuristic, but cuddly, orange tom cat. Tracks was Peter’s cat, although he loved Abe just as much. It was Peter who fed him most of the time, Peter who brushed him, which the orange tabby endured with a look of utter indifference on his face… but he was often purring. Abe wondered if the tom thought he was getting one over on Peter, who couldn’t hear his rumblings. But Peter could feel Tracks purring, so…

      Peter smacked Abe’s ass lightly and then reached around from behind and hugged him briefly. Then, keeping his hands in front of Abe, he signed, Daydream later. I want you.

      Abe grinned like the lovestruck fool he surely was and trotted up the stairs to the second floor of Peter’s house.

      Strange how he still thought of it as Peter’s house even though he’d been living here also for close to two years. But his name wasn’t on the lease, and they weren’t married. Peter was understandably a little gun-shy when it came to marriage. He’d been bisexual all his life, of course, but he’d lived many years in the closet. His wife had been a witch. Even though Peter and Megan had been apart, if not quite divorced, for over four years, Abe knew enough about relationships to know that often it took a while to get over the heartache. Even if it had turned out for the best. He’d heard somewhere that if you cut the time a couple had been together in half, that was how long it took to get over the relationship. Peter had been married for thirteen years.

      Peter joined him on the second-floor landing and smacked his butt again, more firmly this time. He looked a question at Abe, who pushed away thoughts of exes and smiled. Then he took Peter’s hand and led him to the bedroom.

      Peter closed the door, turned on the lamp by the wall, and smirked.

      Following his gaze, Abe saw Tracks curled up on his favorite pillow, which happened to be Peter’s, looking at them with complacent eyes.

      Mind reader, Peter signed as he crossed to the cat, lifted him gently, cuddled him for a moment, and then carried him to the door.

      Abe opened the door to let the voyeuristic feline out and closed it firmly behind him. It wasn’t just that Tracks liked to watch. He sometimes tried to sample the various fluids involved.

      Blessedly alone, they looked at each other for a moment. Then Abe broke the staring contest by dropping his gaze and beginning to unbutton his dress shirt. They’d both sat at the computer straightaway after work on this day in mid-January and neither of them had changed. When his shirt was all the way unbuttoned, including his cuffs, he looked up, expecting Peter to be similarly undressed. But Peter was just gazing at him. The intensity in his eyes made Abe blush. What? he signed.

      You’re so… Peter flapped his hands, a gesture

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