Free How to Train Your Dom in Five Easy Steps by Josephine Myles Page A

pieces Jeff had were sturdy and comfortable, and everything looked clean enough to eat your dinner off.
    Except the rug. “Don’t worry. Spunk cleans off easily enough. You must know that from washing your sheets, surely.”
    Jeff shrugged. “Mum does my laundry. And she comes round to clean too. I can sort out the boots easily enough myself, but I don’t want her finding that on the rug. What’s she going to think?”
    “I imagine she’ll think it’s yours, and that you’ve seduced some woman down in front of the fire.” Eddie pushed himself to his feet. Last thing he felt like doing right now, but since he didn’t want Jeff weirded out, he’d make a sacrifice. “If you’re not up to cleaning a small spot on your own rug”—and how pathetic was that?— “then you could always order me to clean it up for you.”
    Jeff crossed his arms. The tough-guy look was kind of ridiculous with his spent dick hanging out of his jeans. “And would you?”
    “Only one way to find out. But it’d be a pretty hard-line approach, and I wouldn’t recommend you try it with anyone else. Especially not a woman. They don’t usually take kindly to that kind of thing. Especially if they’re coming down off the high of a scene.”
    Jeff scratched his neck. “Shit. Like you are. I’m not doing too good here, am I?”
    Ooh, vulnerability. That was nice. Maybe Eddie could utilise it for a teaching moment. “After a scene, you generally want to spend some time with your sub, bringing them down gently. Cuddling and kissing is good, although obviously that’s out of the question here. But something like offering me a shower or a flannel to clean up with would be good. And then a warm blanket to wrap up in. And a cup of tea with two sugars. Builder’s strength.”
    Jeff looked at him with something like respect. “Wouldn’t have had you down for drinking proper tea. Thought you’d have gone for that herbal muck.”
    “Nope. I like my tea strong and sweet.” He bit back the urge to add that was just like Jeff, because he had a feeling the bloke wouldn’t be flattered by being called sweet. And Jeff probably wasn’t, by most people’s definitions, but there was a sweeter side buried under the gruffness, Eddie could see. It was intriguing. It would definitely make Jeff easier to get along with between scenes, because full-on testosterone-fuelled machismo could be tiring. Eddie had figured that out the last time he’d tried to have a romantic relationship with a Top.
    Not that romance was ever going to be in the air for him and Jeff, but still. Friendship and occasional sex would be good. More than good, if he got more of that.
    Jeff grunted as he tucked himself back into his trousers. “I’ll find you a cloth to clean up with.” He disappeared into the kitchen.
    Great. So much for the sweetness. Jeff wanted a domestic slave after all.
    When the wet dishcloth was handed to him, Eddie sighed and bent forward, scrubbing at the rug.
    “What are you doing? That was for you. To clean up your face and…you know. Whatever else needs cleaning.”
    “Oh.” Eddie’s heart warmed. “Thanks.”
    Jeff shrugged awkwardly. “S’all right. I’ve got the kettle on. You want normal tea or decaf?”
    “Normal, please. I’m going to need it to be able to concentrate on the drive home.” Then it struck Eddie. “Now I wouldn’t have had you down for a decaf man.”
    “I’m not, but my dad is, so I keep it in for him.”
    And there it was, another sign of Jeff’s innate sweetness.
    Eddie cleaned up and got dressed again, all the while playing through his evening. Sometimes it could be hard to remember the details of a scene afterwards. Something about the endorphin haze made it tough to put together a narrative, but moments would leap out. Eddie found if he reviewed it soon enough and made some notes in his diary when he got home, it was easier to fix the good times in his memory. He sat on the sofa, strangely reluctant to follow