Ray is enigmatic.

You've never met anyone like him: a biker, sharp-witted and fearless, tall, handsome, with the body of a Greek God.

With him you were always diving in headfirst. He liked putting you on edge a little, testing you, seeing if you'd match his freak.

Whatever he wanted you did, with no hesitation and obedience. He liked that about you too, so needy to be useful.

From sleeping curled up on the thick rug at the foot of his bed, to making him dinner, to enduring the silence when he chose to ignore you until he needed you again.

But you love it.

You wake up to the alarm he sets for you, to do the morning chores, his bed already empty.

You're cooking breakfast for him like usual, the pan sizzling, the house still quiet. A part of you does long to ask if he slept well, when he comes in.

"Do you want pepper or cheese with your omelette?" you ask.

He doesn't respond, ignoring you like usual.

"Uh, do you want coffee?" you add, voice higher pitched in uncertainty.

He turns a page, looking at the morning paper, flipping it without even glancing up at you.

Part of you wishes that just once he’d soften, that he’d look at you and say your name, but you know that's not how this works.

You're his submissive and nothing else.