Once I’m naked, I follow Nas’s instructions and kneel on the black rug centered in front of the doors. I tie my hair into a tight ponytail before placing my hands on my thighs palms down, and wait patiently for Nas to arrive. Staring up at the top of the stairs, I listen for him, tilting my head every time I think I hear something, but ten minutes goes by without Nas showing up. After another ten minutes I start to get goosebumps on my skin from the chill sweeping down the stairs, and my patience begins to run a little thin as my legs cramp from sitting on them so long without moving. I want to get up, even if only to stretch my legs and return to my position, but I bite my lip and fight through it because it’s what Nas told me to do. My fortitude is truly tested when another ten minutes passes with no sign of Nas, but just as I think to get up and leave, the door to Nas’s office opens.

I watch him descend the steps with a proud smile on his face, and it takes everything in me not to ask why the fuck he didn't come down if he was here the entire time. I want to know what the hell he was doing up there while I was sitting on trembling legs for half an hour, but I keep it bottled up. I swallow the bitter taste of it as Nas reaches the entryway and stands over me, grinning.

“Look at you,” he says, still wearing his gray button up and black pants from earlier in the day. “Somebody is Sir’s patient little slut, aren't they?”

My face immediately jolts into a frown. First, he left me down here for half an hour on purpose, and now he’s insulting me at a time when he should know I’m upset about being forced to wait. Patient little slut? Seriously?

Nas bends down in front of me, putting his face only inches from mine as he looks into my eyes, the grin slowly melting off his face.

“What? You don't like waiting for your Sir?” he asks. “You don't like being patient for me? You don't like being my little slut? Go ahead, Baby Girl. Speak up.”