Page 9 of What I've Tasted of Desire

“Just let me suck you off. No one has to know…”

I let out an irritated sigh and turned around to see him down on his knees in front of my stall.

“Please,” he said beseechingly, looking up at me through wet eyelashes. Even to my irritated gaze, he was beautiful.

“No, thank you,” I said tightly. “Have a nice night. Good luck with the next guy.”

He reached for my flaccid dick, and I instinctively punched him in the mouth. There was no more premeditation behind it than drawing my next breath. The crunch of my knuckles against his teeth was sudden and violent, much harder than I would have consciously intended. He was shocked by the hit and yelled out as he fell back, losing his center of gravity and crashing down hard against the tile.

“That’s sexual assault, bud,” I growled through clenched teeth. “I fucking told youno. Now, are you finished, or do you want me to put your head through the fucking wall?”

He scrambled to his feet as blood began to spill from the split in his top lip. He held his hand to his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to stop the blood from splattering down on the tile in a trail behind him as he ran out of the showers.

“I’m so sorry, Alex,” I mumbled in distress as I grabbed a wash cloth off the hanging rack and soaped myself up, trying to clean the pig’s disgusting touch off of me. “You’re the only one that’s supposed to touch me.”

I finished my shower feeling gross and pissed, despite my earlier intentions. I dressed quickly and headed out of the gym, checking the time on my phone again as I reached the car door.

Fuck, I was gonna miss him!

I had hit the remote start as I crossed the gym lobby, but 30 seconds of engine against a snow storm still had the internal temperature reading 19 degrees on the dashboard thermometer.

Despite the freezing air, my hands felt clammy as they gripped the steering wheel. I turned down Banx Boulevard, driving well past the legal speed limit. I switched lanes here and there to avoid slower drivers and made it to Westing House a full seven minutes later than I had intended.

I had gotten into the habit of parking down the block and waiting for Alex to leave in the evenings. Once he’d made it to the corner, I’d get out of the car and walk along with him. Staying out of sight enough so he wouldn’t notice and get freaked out, but close enough to quickly intervene should a drug addict or gangbanger decide to try anything. It would be easy enough to justify myself as aGood Samaritanwithout drawing too much attention to myself.

Come to think of it, that might actually be perfect. It could be ourmeet-cute. Alex would be walking home, someone would come up and start screwing with him, and then I could come up from behind and knock the guy’s lights out. Alex would think I was some kind of knight in shining armor, and we could take it from there.

“That would scare him, though,” I said to myself as the thought crossed my mind. “I don’t want him to be scared. He’s been through enough.”

Panic began to rise as I let the car slowly inch down the street past Westing House. All the lights were off inside; everyone had already gone.

Oh, no.

Thoughts of finding Alex’s limp body along the side of the road crashed through my psyche as my heart started pounding in my chest.

You can’t keep him safe; you’ve already failed! You’re late because you let someone else touch you in the shower, now Alex will suffer for it…

“No, he won’t! I’ll find him!”

I slammed on the gas pedal, causing the rear tires to momentarily lose traction against the icy blacktop. I turned the wheel, correcting enough not to fishtail, and off I went. I made it to the edge of the block and turned left, heedless of the standing red light.

Another block down, and still no Alex.

I blew through the next light, scanning the sidewalks in a half-panic. He was nowhere to be found.

Wait! The diner…

I made a U-turn at the next intersection, cruised down an alleyway, and into the back parking lot. The dinner rush was in full swing, and the parking lot was busy. I slowed the car as I drove past the entrance. I had no choice but to come to a stop to let a small flow of people cross in front of me as they exited the restaurant.

“Come on, come on, come on…” I chanted impatiently.

Thirty more feet and I’d have a clear view of the bay windows that lined the side. Alex liked sitting in the corner booth by the window. It was the closest table to the kitchen, and the least-crowded part of the restaurant.

Alex doesn’t like crowds.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, anxious energy bubbling over inside me.

I prided myself on being a kind and patient man. Holding the door for strangers behind me, fetching things off the top shelf for little old ladies in the grocery store, always letting pedestrians cross in front of me with a smile…but, I swore to God, if this old man didn’t get the fuck out of the road, I was gonna turn him into a fucking flapjack.

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