Parts of Us (The Game #14) Read Online Cara Dee

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Taboo Tags Authors: Series: The Game Series by Cara Dee
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Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 694(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
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“I love you too!” He fiddled with the drawstrings of my hoodie. “Can we get out of here now?”

I bumped my forehead against his. “I’ll even race you to the elevator.”

That earned me one of his adorable giggles—before he gasped and shook his head. “Oh no, Sir! No running for you. In fact, wait here.”

He darted out of the office before I could even think of a response, and I felt my forehead wrinkle. What was the boy up to now?

Eh, I’d find out soon enough.

Returning to my desk, I gave my office a final glance and swooped up the box. Eighteen fucking years. I’d done everything I’d set out to do—except take over the company one day. A fool’s dream right after graduation. Back then, dreams had looked a lot different. For both KC and me, the world had revolved around money and career goals.

What felt like a lifetime later, I could confidently say that work travels didn’t mean shit if you didn’t have someone to share them with—or more importantly, you didn’t actually get to experience the destination. The money… Okay, the money still felt nice, but it was far from enough. Same there, I wanted someone to share it with, someone to spoil, my kinky family to take care of, and…I’d jeopardized all of it.

No more.

This was it. I walked out, only pausing to steal my sign from the door, and then I trailed down the corridor without looking back.

I blew out a breath, a strange discomfort setting in. My hands prickled slightly, and I felt a little out of breath. So I supposed I was long overdue for a day of resting.

I wasn’t sure the anxiety medication had made any difference. I didn’t feel sleepy or sluggish in any way.

Halfway down the corridor, Noa reappeared from the lobby. He jogged back to me with a triumphant smirk, and he was holding something. He came to a stop right in front of me, wordlessly shifted the box sideways in my arms, and stuck whatever it was to my chest.

What the fuck?

“I saw it on a box next to the front desk,” he said.

It was a bright red sticker that read “Fragile – handle with care.”

I pursed my lips to conceal my amusement, and I met his grin.

“That’s you.” He grabbed the box from me. “Daddy, Cameron, and I are gonna take care of you, though.”

“Because I’m fragile.” I didn’t know how to react. Mostly, I was in awe of this sweetheart. He was equal parts funny and protective, which was equal parts discombobulating and endearing. The little one wasn’t supposed to look after his Owner in that sense. Right?

“For the moment.” He nodded.

For the moment.

It felt entirely wrong to be home without Cam here. I’d showered without him, gotten dressed without him, eaten my low-sodium, healthy meal without him, taken a nap without him, walked past his collar in the hallway, and it was…just less.

Over the past six months, we’d built up such an extensive structure; it’d fused us together. If none of us was working, we were attached at the hip. And he was almost always at home when I was. So…if I was sitting in my reading chair, I wanted to hear him humming to himself in the kitchen—or he was kneeling at my feet and working on next week’s dinner menu. If he had an errand and I wasn’t working, I wanted to drive him. If he had a date with Noa to go dancing, with or without friends, KC and I preferred to wait in the city until they needed to be picked up.

It’d felt so natural too. My dynamic with Cameron might seem intense and bordering on suffocating to some, but to us… If I believed in soul mates, he was mine. Forming our relationship had felt like being reunited with a piece I’d been missing since birth. I loved his perspective on things. I could listen to him for hours and then look at the time and wonder what’d happened.

I loved to watch him in his slave mode with others as well. Archie, Macklin, Tate—most recently, Gael too. Gael wasn’t a slave, but he was a Little with a big love for serving Dean, and Cam hadn’t hesitated to help Gael find a balance.

Merely observing Cam breathed life into me.

And if he felt half that overwhelming amount of love for me… I’d really fucking let him down.

Part of becoming his Master had revolved around tying him to me. He’d thrived on knowing that I would make every decision—because he trusted me to always listen to him, he knew I’d always explain my reasoning if he needed it, and he felt confident that my goal was for the two of us to grow stronger together.

“I want you to be my sun, Sir. Hell, my religion. Every day, I want to ask myself, what does Master want for dinner? What does his schedule look like today? What will he need from me when he gets home?”



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