Page 173 of Brainwashed
My stomach flip-flops, but I ignore it, purposely not glancing in the direction of the row of cells where Felix is currently locked up tight. I put him back down there the morning after our intense night together in the bloody bathtub. But that was days ago, and I haven’t seen him since.
I haven’t gone to his cell at night, when everything is quiet like I had been for days before, and I haven’t plucked him out of his cell. I haven’t brought him for a walk through the woods with our fingers linked. I haven’t snuck him into the Ivory Mansion, crept upstairs to my bedroom and fucked him senseless.
We haven’t slept wrapped up in each other in days… I haven’t woken up with him burning me alive, rutting his ass against my crotch, or with his heavy arm strewn over my waist, soft breaths and a little drool on my chest as he sleeps peacefully.
He’s socalmwhile he sleeps; the slumber of someone without a care in the world. As if he hasn’t murdered dozens of people, and isn’t locked away indefinitely in a rotting prison for it.I can’t help but wonder if it’s because ofmethat he’s sleeping so soundly.Is it because I make him feel comfortable? Safe?
Or is it just because he’s a sociopath, and he doesn’t worry about anything?
It really doesn’t matter, but the point is that regardless of The Ivory warning me to get Felix out of his home, I couldn’t help myself. I continued to bring him home with me every night, because I wasn’t thinking. I’ve beenhypnotizedby the chemistry between us… So overwhelming, I can’t even fathom where it came from or how it’s possible. And the sex.God, the mind-numbing, spine-tingling, ball-bursting sex… I’ve never had anything like it. And I’ve had hot sex before.
Lots of it. Casual flings with women met in dark rooms, shared kinks explored, and power wielded over their bodies.
Yet none of it even comes close to what I do with Felix. It doesn’t hold a candle to the feeling of his material treasuring mine, his soft lips and smooth skin and his mouthwatering taste. His carved muscles, sharp stubble in between shaves… His big dick.
I mean, seriously. Since when do I like dick??I really have no idea how or why this came about, but Felix’s dick pops into my head at least once every fifteen minutes or so, and I’m baffled by it.
I’m a straight man, a doctor of the human mind, entranced by the cock of a murderous maniac.Life is going well for me.
Either way, I had to shut it down. No matter how much I’d love to keep Felix in my bed at all times, I had to stop bringing him to the mansion when Johansson started whining. It’s just too much heat for right now. We need to cool down… Take some time apart so I can figure out what’s going on between us.
This whole thing is really throwing me off my game, and I just need some time to clear my head.
Unease settles in my gut as I knock on Johansson’s office door, letting myself in. As usual, he’s seated behind his desk, and Templeton is standing by the bookshelf. But this time there’s a man I don’t recognize on the couch where Figueroa usually sits.
Waltzing over, casually disguising my frustration, I pull out a chair opposite Johansson and take a seat. I can feel all of their eyes on me, but I keep my face still, bored.
“Dr. Love.” Johansson says my name with much less enthusiasm than usual, gesturing to the man on the couch. He’s on the young side, maybe forty-ish, with dark hair slicked back, clean-shaven. Attractive, I suppose, if you’re looking at him that way. “This is Dr. Arvin Hassan. He’s here filling in, what with Abel’s transfer and all…”
I nod, unenthused. “Lemuel Love.”
“I’ve heard great things, Doctor.” Dr. Hassan offers a curt smile. “I’m a Johns Hopkins alumni myself.”
My brows lift. “Are you…”
He nods. “I believe I was a few years before you. But I know you must have studied under Dr. Ricker…”
“Yea, of course,” I huff, pleased at the mention of one of my favorite professors. “He’s still going strong, from what I understand.”
“He’ll never retire.” Hassan chuckles. “Too stubborn.”
“You’re right about that,” I agree. I won’t say I trust this guy just because we share an alma mater, but he seems decent enough. My eyes move to Johansson, who’s just watching us in silence with a blank face. “So… what can I do for you, Jarvis?”
Johansson purses his lips. “I’ve spoken with Manuel. We’re in agreement to move forward on some aggressive techniques with Felix. Now that he’s back here for good.”
My teeth grind so hard my jaw hurts. “And what kinds of techniques would those be?”
Johansson glances at Templeton. “Lemuel, look. You know no one respects you more than I do. I’ve been following your career for quite some time, and your research here with Felix has been impeccable. That said, in the last couple of weeks, it seems that you may have… lost track of the objective.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I seethe quietly.
“I’m not saying these things to accuse you. I’m bringing this up to remind you that we all have a job to do here. We all utilize controversial methods. It’s the name of our game. But, you know… within reason.”
“What exactly are you trying to say, Jarvis?” I lean forward, glowering at him. “Stop dancing around it and get to the point.”
Johansson shifts. “You’re letting him get into your head.”
“I am not.” I scoff. “That’s bullshit.”
