Page 199 of Brainwashed
My eyes subtly dipped over his arms and torso. “From the look of you, I think you could handle yourself.”
Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I prayed for a positive reaction to my flirting. Granted, straight guys didn’t usually engage for this long, though I’d had a few bi-curious victims in the last eighteen months or so. Still, I could feel myself attaching to the idea of Henry. My heart was reaching out for him as my next Cameron-fill-in. ThatyearningI could never truly sate.
And when he grinned and bit his lip, I knew I was in.
He’ll look so good in my bathtub.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. “That’s what the gym is for, right? Training to defend yourself against serial killers…”
I chuckled. “Maybe you can protect me.” I leaned in a bit closer and whispered, “From the big bad Carver.”
I felt a shift in his breathing as his eyes dropped to my mouth.
“You wanna take a walk with me?” I asked him, hopeful.
At first, I sensed some mild apprehension amidst the intrigue, as if meeting strange men and immediately hanging out with them wasn’t his normal thing. But he must have seen something in me that he liked, because he gave me a light smile and said, “Sure. I’d love to.”
We walked through the park together for a bit after that, talking and finishing our coffees. And when we grew closer to my apartment, I asked him if he’d like to come up.
He was hesitant, and looking back at it now,of coursehe was. I was coming on much stronger than I ever had before, which should have been a red flag for me as much as it was for him. But I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I had this need crawling up my gut, this itching desperation to add him to my collection. If all went accordingly, he would be number thirty-five, and I was all butsalivatingfor it.
The high from my newfound fame was clouding my judgment. We’d spent even more time talking about the killer on the loose, so that by the time we got near my apartment, I was keyed up and ready to explode.
I got Henry to agree to come upstairs by telling him I just wanted to change my shirt, since he’d spilled coffee on me. Kind of like a mild form of guilt-trip. And he bought it.
The sun was just setting as he came upstairs to my apartment with me. And after that, things got a little hazy.
While he was obviously tense, he still let me kiss him. And he kissed me back. We ended up making out on my couch for a while, and the whole time, all I could think about was that article. The nickname.
I am The Carver, I kept telling myself, over and over again in my head.
That was when I grew more aggressive. I wanted to get Henry naked so that I could feel his flesh, but he was hesitating. I could tell he liked it, but he was nervous about moving too fast. He obviously wasn’t like the other guys I brought home, who were always looking for casual sex.
This guy was too sweet, innocent. It began to fuck with my head a little.
And the next thing I knew, I was choking him.
The look on his face when my hands drifted up to his throat and tightened was unlike anything I could have dreamt up. I saw the moment it dawned on him, the look in his eyes when he realized that the killer we’d been talking about all afternoon was on top of him.
I could see it on his face, the awareness.The Carverwas going to kill him.
I used my hands, which I hadn’t done in a while, like I had something to prove. I wanted to steal the life of this beautiful man, and keep it for myself like a trophy. And I wanted to do it bare-handed.
Henry was really freaking out. He was fighting and struggling against me with all his might. But I had much more experience in killing than he had in being killed. We somehow ended up on the floor, and I was digging my hands into his throat so hard, I could see blood vessels popping. Those red burst capillaries in his eyes… It was brutal.
My hands were exhausted, but I managed it.Finally, after several minutes, he went limp beneath me, and I slumped over.
“Wow, baby…” I whispered, pushing the sweat-slicked hair away from his temples. “You made me work for it, huh?”
The satisfaction rolled over me like a tidal wave. My heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins like potent drugs as I kissed his neck. My lips and hands were all over him, really cherishing the feel of his body. I touched his abs and his chest—I’ve always had a thing for torsos—while kissing his lips tenderly, licking the deep bruises already forming around his throat.
It feltwonderful. It was just what I needed.
I’d never been happier.
Until I remembered that I still had a few pieces of number thirty-four in the closet.
“Fuck!” I’d grumbled to myself, jumping up and stalking over to my hall closet, whipping the door open.
