“Rise and shine, sleepy head!” I jerk up in bed, and though I’m instantly awake, what I am not, is happy about it.

I went to sleep like a baby last night, feeling a little bit guilty that Aden didn’t get his. I don’t know what to make of that. Does that happen? Are there actually men out there who will give a woman the big ‘O’, but not demand they get it back?

The way I melted for him, he had to know he could have anything he wanted. The way he stopped me from doing that, pulled me into him and kissed my forehead is haunting me. It was sweet. Sweet in a way I felt it through every part of me. Sweet in a way I felt cherished… I’ve never had that—never knew it even existed. I could feel how hard he was too. His dick pressed against me practically all night and still… he asked for nothing.

My eyes open slowly and they do that for one reason.

Coffee. Wonderful, remarkable morning caffeine, nectar of the gods.

“Give me,” I mumble reaching out to grab the mug from his hands.

“Cute,” he mutters, almost under his breath.

“What?” I ask, groaning as I down that first sip off coffee.

“You need to get going, Babe. We got shit to do.”

“We do? What time is it?”

“It’s six thirty.”

“Six thirty? In the morning?”

“Yeah. We’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise? Aden, it’s early.”

“We have a lot to do. Now get out of that bed before I have to drag you out,” he grins. “Although that could be fun,” he adds, clearly thinking about it.

“What are we doing?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise would it, but dress nice. We’re going out to dinner, too.”

“But…”

“No buts, unless it’s your butt…naked.”

“It’s too early for you be funny and cheerful.”

“Babe, get your ass moving.”

“What about the motel? Who’s going to watch it?”

“Got it covered.”

“Jack doesn’t like getting out of bed early,” I mumble, though in truth that’s me. It’s just when Jack sleeps I like to stay in bed late myself.

“Got it covered,” he repeats already walking back into the other part of our quarters. “But if you aren’t in that shower in the next five minutes, I’ll be in there to spank you and get you moving.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” I growl—mostly to myself, because I figure he’s out of earshot. He proves me wrong however, when a moment late he peeks his head through the doorway.

“Trust me, honey. I’d dare. I’m itching to spank your ass.”

“Aden,” I gasp, because there’s no mistaking that intent.

“And what’s more, I bet you’d like it,” he says with a wink, before disappearing again. “Five minutes, Hope!” he calls as a reminder.

“Alright already!”

I lie there looking at the empty doorway. That familiar feeling of guilt hits me. I need to tell Aden the truth. Every day that goes by I’m feeling worse. I could defend my actions a little, but this Aden is not the Aden from before.

Which Aden would he turn into if I tell him the truth?

I can’t keep going like I am. I’m beginning to hate myself. I need to call White.

“Hope!” Aden calls from the other room.

I don’t respond, I get the feeling he doesn’t need an excuse to spank me. As interesting as that sounds, I’m not sure I want to go there, and especially not the way things are. I get in the shower and I go through possible outcomes with Aden and myself. No matter which choice I make, they all end horribly in my mind.

I’m going to lose him.

He was never mine to begin with.

I’m going to lose him and I’m starting to… really care about him.

I’m going through the motions, drying off and throwing on clothes. I’m just about to blow dry and tame my hair when I hear a large crash coming from the other room.

“Jack! Aden!” I cry, my legs carrying me quickly to the source of the noise. When I make it into the kitchen, Aden is kneeling on the floor a bowl of cereal spilled all around him and he’s holding his head.

“Daddy sick,” Jack says, his little voice full of worry, as I go down on my knees, wrapping my arms around Aden.

“Honey what’s wrong?” I whisper.

“My head,” he moans, quietly holding it. “Pain…”

The last word is a gasp, that tells me it’s so bad it hurts for him to talk. My mind immediately starts making plans. I need to load Jack up, getting a few of his toys and somehow get Aden into my car.

“What’s going on?”

“Daria? What are you doing—”

“Aden called and asked if I could watch the motel today for you guys. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. I’m going to take him to the doctor—”

“I don’t want to go, Hope,” Aden whispers. “I had plans for us today.”

“We can do them once we know you’re okay,” I tell him, and I can’t stop myself from kissing his forehead, as if that will somehow stop the pain.

I somehow get Aden to my car and the entire time I’m praying that he will be alright. I can’t deny it anymore.

I do care about him… more than I ever should.