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Summary
“Think you can open your eyes for me, sweetheart?” And okay, March maybe whined a little at that. Opening his eyes sounded like too much work; he was happy where he was, thanks, plus he didn't really want to think.
Healy huffed out a laugh like he could tell exactly what went through March’s head. “Open your eyes,” Healy said, his voice firmer but still gentle. A command.
Well, when he put it that way…
March likes when Healy takes control. Healy likes when Healy takes control. It’s a win/win situation.
