Danger: may become increasingly dickish with no warning, contact sponsor if patient loses interest in food, sex, or music; uncontrolled crying in the shower, chronic and suddenanxiety attacks, and long battles with self-loathing and horrific depression are common. Watch for nail biting, social withdrawal, outbursts of rage, extreme mood swings, fight or flight reactions, and fucked up drawings in my journal. Good. Fucking. Luck.
Maybe I’ll do that someday. I should add the DNR order I begged for a year ago. I glance inside and see her face smashed into the pillow, makeup everywhere, and I can help but think that this time, maybe I’ll be okay.
I crack my neck and put out the cigarette. Before going back into bed, I wash my hands and use some of the mouthwash Dani has by the sink. I’ve tried to break the nervous habit, but like I told Shawn, I can’t kill all the demons at once, so I aimed for the meanest mother fucker first. I close the curtains tight so the sun won’t wake us before I settle in next to Dani’s warm, soft body. Nuzzling into her neck, I wonder if this sleep will end differently, if the demons will stay away, even if only for a little while.
“I love you, Daniella,” I whisper as sleep pulls my eyelids down and I drift off into the darkness.
CHAPTER 19
SHIMMY
MISSIO, BLACKILLAC
This guy iswhat would happen if the sex appeal of James Bond and the dark brooding of Batman collided and became one. Older Batman, though. When he’s got those streaks of gray hair everyone knows he and Robin bang like rabbits behind closed doors. I can’t tell if he knows I’ve been eyeing him since he found me out in the hallway, wallowing in my self-loathing for being an idiot. Okay, he’s more like Superman, swooping in to save the day when all hope looked lost. Maybe I’m too much of a horny nerd.
Nerds have needs, too, though. Especially nerds terrified of flying but getting ready to board a long flight in a little more than twenty-four hours. I need something to take my mind off it, and the good doctor here will take care of that craving.
I run my hands through his short, graying hair, something I’ve wanted to do since he first said my name. The rolled-up sleeves do nothing to ease my raging hard on, either. Noticeable veins running through nice big, tattooed forearms as he takes hold of my hips, pushing me down and grinding against me. His hands would look fucking amazing around my neck. I bet he fucks hard, and right now, that’s what I need. I’d guess he does, too.
“Xander, you don’t have to do this. I only wanted to help, not?—”
“Bill me, I don’t fucking care. Please, don’t stop.” I slide his glasses off, putting them on the arm of the couch. His eyes have swirls of greens and browns, like marble, or at least that’s what I can make out from the sliver of color around his blown-out pupils. My hand slides over his thigh, brushing against the bulge and making my mouth water. The lazy, unhurried way he runs his tongue across his lips has my cock trying to rip through the seams of my pants.
“Why did you have to be so fuckin’ pretty?” His deep, smooth voice has a haunting quality, but there’s something more, a growl right on the edge. A beast he hasn’t let out in a while that’s pacing its cage.
“You’ve… done this before?”
His lips pull back in a sly grin and it might be the first time I’m seeing the real him. He nods, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve been with dogs before. In fact, Xander, I prefer them.”
Shit. I can’t believe we’re doing this.
I reach down between us, palming his cock as his hand slides up the back of my head, holding me to him as he kisses me deeper, harder. It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone who isn’t hiding who they are. Someone who knows what the hell they’re doing with another man. I want this man to destroy me, to reduce me to whimpers and whines, to make everything else melt away.
When he throws me down on the couch, it knocks the wind out of me, but I love it. He climbs over me, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants before he cages me between his strong arms. I don’t even try to hold back the moan as he rubs against me, or the whimper that comes out when his teeth graze against my neck.
Without warning, he freezes. His expression matches someone who’s remembered they left the house with the stove on. “I shouldn’t…we shouldn’t do this. You’re…young. Probably too young.”
“I’m thirty, do you want to see my ID, or do you want to get in my fucking pants, Doctor?”
“I’ll stop if you want,” he whispers, but I’m not listening and he’s not stopping.
“Why? Do you want to stop? Want to go about your day and get your groceries and play with your cat?”
His eyes are little disks of honey around the black, blown out pupils. He shakes his head and growls.
My nerves are pop rocks—mini explosions going off wherever our skin meets. “Take off your fucking pants and let me see what we’re working with.”
Our tongues wrestle for control as we grope one another, searching for ways to get rid of all the clothes between us. He wraps around me and in an almost fluid motion, he’s flipped me over, grinding against my ass. His hand reached down the front of my pants and when he cups my cock, my head rocks back.
“Yes, oh god. Ah, there we go. He does like dogs!” I laugh, thrusting into his fist.
“Oh, you’re gonna be a mouthy brat, are you? Well, I can fix that.”
I’ve been told by more than one person that the best way to shut my wise mouth up is to shove something into it. Some people mean food, others, like Theo here, have something else they want me to choke on, and I’m more than willing to help him out with that. His eyes grow wide when I shove him back on his ass, and drop myself right where I need to be, between these two tree trunks he calls legs.
He swallows hard, watching me as I tease him, kissing him through his boxers and tracing my tongue along his abdomenwhile he helps me pull his pants down his thighs. I watch the daze take over and his head rocks back when I lick and nip at the sensitive skin of his legs.
“Ah, fuck!” he moans as I pull his cock out and give him a low whistle.